Story Notes:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
So, I whipped up this 1000 word story for the St_respect ship wars. It did not get picked as Team Ashayam's entry for this week's competition, but I thought that you all might like to read it. The prompt for this week was First Dates. It was very hard keeping this to just 1000 words.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Vulcan's Moon
Spock strode through the halls of the Enterprise, his gait determined, his posture erect. He was on his way to find his date for the Enterprise Screw. After a particularly stressing encounter with a band of Orion slavers, the Captain ordered all non-essential personnel to attend the dance. Captain Kirk felt that the celebration would be a needed and much welcome relaxant and Doctor McCoy agreed.
“As the purpose of this event is to improve crew morale, I assume that my attendance is not required.”
“On the contrary, Spock,” the Captain replied as the senior command crew began to filter out of the briefing room. “Your attendance is especially required.”
“As a Vulcan, meditation is more than sufficient to ensure that my mental health remains at an optimal level.”
“Even hobgoblins have to be social,” McCoy quipped as he passed by. “You’re going to the dance, doctor’s orders.”
Spock later came to regret his easy acquiescence when he learned more details about the screw. Unlike a normal dance, one did not choose one’s own partner, but was paired with a date chosen by one’s friends or colleagues. Jim and McCoy took it upon themselves to select Spock’s partner. This turn of events caused Spock to devote five extra minutes to his daily meditation. While he trusted Jim to not “screw” him by choosing an unfortunate date, he did not have such faith in McCoy.
Spock also found the method of revealing one’s partner to be most peculiar. Earlier that evening, Jim gave him a holo of the Earth’s moon and enigmatically instructed him to report to Observation Deck 8 at 1800 hours.
“Spock,” Jim laughed, holding up his hands to stop his questions, “You’ll know her when you see her. Just go with your gut, as we humans say.”
Spock entered the observation deck, stopping a few meters from a familiar figure who leaned against the railing, her dark eyes fixed on a holo of Vulcan cradled in her small hands. His posture relaxed subtlety. Jim and McCoy chose well.
“Lieutenant Uhura,” Spock greeted as he approached her, his voice a low rumble.
“Commander Spock.” Her full lips curved in a soft smile as her eyes came to rest on the holo held in his hands. She shook her head as she chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, I should know not to tell Charlene everything.”
“Indeed,” Spock replied. “I admit that I was somewhat confused when Jim gave me a holo of the moon, but now I see that his logic was sound.”
“Jim was in on this?” She asked laughingly, her voice washing over him like a warm breeze.
“As well as Doctor McCoy.”
“Goodness, does the entire crew know of that conversation?”
Spock refrained from answering what he knew to be a rhetorical question. Instead, he focused on the reddish tint barely visible on her sable cheeks.
“That happened so long ago,” Uhura continued as her eyes swept over his features fondly. “So much has happened since then.”
“Indeed. It has been three years, five months, six days and four point seven hours since you posed your queries.”
“Oh,” Uhura replied as she stepped towards him, the holo still clutched in her hands. “And do you now have an answer for me, Mr. Spock?”
“Affirmative,” Spock replied, his voice low as he gazed down at her. “You once asked me why I did not tell you that you were an attractive young lady. At that time I was not at liberty to do so. Prior obligations prevented me from telling you many things, Nyota.”
“And if you were at liberty, Spock?”
Spock arched one brow as he answered seriously. “I certainly would not tell you that you were an attractive young lady.”
Uhura blinked, her mouth opening in surprise before shutting quickly. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes narrowing. “Now look here, buster…”
“I would tell you that you are a very beautiful woman,” Spock continued smoothly, his amusement belied by his cool tone.
Uhura huffed before laughing and gently striking him on the arm.
“I did not know that it was customary for human women to physically assault a male after he has complimented her. It is a fascinating mating behavior.”
Uhura laughed once more, her dark eyes flashing in amusement. Spock allowed the smallest of grins to grace his features. He always found her laughter pleasing.
“Have you ever been in love, Nyota?” Spock queried once her gentle laughter ended.
Uhura flushed once more, her eyes darting away from his face momentarily before catching his gaze once more.
“Yes,” she answered simply, swallowing nervously before recovering her impish grin.
Spock observed her silently, desiring to touch the tips of his fingers to her soft skin in hopes of obtaining confirmation of his hypothesis. Spock had made a study of this woman over the years, slowly gathering data from each casual touch of her hand to his arm, every subtle adjustment of her fingers on the lyre, each grasp of her hand and elbow as he lifted her from the floor. He plotted these impressions on charts, plugged her glances into formulas, calculated the means of her laughs and sighs. He felt he had almost proven the theorem that was Uhura.
“Well, Vulcan still has no moon,” Uhura continued as she nodded towards the holo in her hands.
“If you will permit me,” Spock gently extracted the holo disc from her, his fingers lingering against hers. He plugged the two holo discs together, their images blinking out before projecting once more. A moon now slowly orbited the red planet.
Uhura looked up from the image, her dark eyes meeting his expectant gaze. A small cool hand caressed warm skin, the soft thumb caressing an angled cheekbone. Spock leaned into her touch, his final proofs gathered. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers.
“The dance, Commander,” Uhura sighed once they parted.
“I am more than content to remain here, Lieutenant.”
“Indeed.”